Brotherhood Chronicles: Operation CLOUD
by xxIAmTheSkyxx
Summary: Four months have passed since the suicide, and things have been way too quiet. Eventually, Ventus Reed receives a warning from a friend who fears for the detective's life - and just like that, his life was about to get a whole lot more difficult thanks to try and keep from losing it to C.L.O.U.D. Book 6 of the Brotherhood Chronicles series.


_If you clicked on this story without having read the oneshot entries that precede this story,**g**__**o back and read those other entries for this series before following this story in order to avoid spoilers**__. You won't be able to follow what goes on here otherwise. All of them are listed on my profile, in the order you should read them, so I highly recommend going back and reading those before investing your time in this. If you don't want to do that, well…don't say I didn't warn you when I say…__**SPOILERS ABOUND**__._

_After a forever and a half, I finally have this multi-chapter addition to the Brotherhood Chronicles up. Let me say this right now; this story will be real slow-going. I mean, this is going to be huge—so I'm gonna need time to organize everything I have for it before I put it to Word. Don't berate me too harshly if updates are slow, because I have way too much on my plate right now—this story takes up a huge portion of it by itself. I didn't even plan on this being a series, to start. I need time to properly expand on my material._

_Okay, this is chapter 1, everybody! Without further ado, let's dive into it!_

**Ch. 1: On Edge**

Ventus wanted to die.

…Okay, that wasn't entirely truthful. It only _felt_ like he should want to die…or maybe he was dying already. It was tough to tell, what with this stupid hangover.

What had possessed him? He'd sworn off alcohol as an antidepressant (as one could imagine, being a detective was a very stressful occupation for a number of reasons) ever since that bar incident after he'd gotten promoted to this position. His colleagues still teased him about it to this day.

While he still felt overwhelming shame for going against his own vow, he took a minimal amount of comfort in the knowledge that Vanitas wasn't in any position to spread the news that he'd gotten drunk again. Heaven knew that the both of them already had enough on their plates—especially after the idiot tried to off himself. He hadn't felt that panicked since realizing that his closest and long-standing friend had been behind the murders of two women that he happened to know. These brothers really knew how to shove every stick imaginable up his ass.

_I shouldn't have to deal with this bullshit_, he thought to himself irritably. _Damn it; these idiots are already making me think like a retiree!_

However, by this point it was just wishful thinking on his part. His life had already gone down the drain—all he was able to do now was land in the cesspool of shit and put up with the stink.

But not today. Today he was staying in bed, and nothing short of an assassination attempt was going to get him out of it.

…Which was exactly why the world chose to let his phone ring the moment that thought finished forming in his mind. It was as if his life was saying, _Like hell I'm gonna let you take a break; you've got a criminal organization to dissolve, damn it._

Doing his best to contain the frustration he felt, he fumbled for his phone on top of his bedside drawer, picked it up, and answered it without bothering to check the caller ID.

"This is Reed," he said as he exhaled wearily. "Who's calling?"

"About time you picked up." Vanitas's unmistakably crisp voice sounded on the other end of the line. "You sleep like the fucking dead. Get up already; I'm sick of waiting for you."

He then hung up before Ventus had a chance to respond, leaving him listening to the dial tone in utter bewilderment.

_Did he seriously just call me to wake me up?_ he thought to himself. _A normal person would just knock on the door or something._

Ventus set his phone down and sat up, stretching his arms and letting his back crack. Then again, Vanitas wasn't exactly a textbook definition of the word _normal_. No ill will intended.

"Heh," he chuckled to himself, "they're definitely related, all right."

Not wanting another glimpse of an upset Vanitas (that man looked downright terrifying whenever he was in a bad mood—not that Ventus would ever admit that to him), he decided to get out of bed—and find some Tylenol while he was at it.

* * *

><p>"Christ, how the hell are you not dead yet?" Vanitas griped from his spot on the two-seater couch when Ventus exited the hallway. "My fingers are cramped from all the times I had to press the call button."<p>

Ventus let a smirk slip out at his words. "Well, I guess I'm just that lucky," he said, running a hand through his hair in a marginal effort to tidy it. "It seems I've gotten pretty good at cheating death recently."

"'Recently'?"

"Yeah, 'cause no one's ever tried to shoot me in the chest or commit suicide by train before you guys came along and flipped it all to hell, you know," he grunted, letting his hand drop as he shot Vanitas a sharp look. "Still pissed about that. Just so you know."

Vanitas simply clicked his tongue in annoyance and stared up at the ceiling without saying anything.

"Anyway," Ventus went on, "if you wanted to wake me up, why didn't you just knock on my door? Wouldn't that have been quicker? Not to mention it would've saved you a cramped thumb, too."

It took a while before the dark-haired man answered him. "I've told you before; I respect people's privacy. 'Specially yours, Sir I-Give-No-Fucks-About-Life."

"Harsh." Ventus had a feeling that he wasn't being truthful, but he wasn't in the mood to get into another argument about it—so he let it drop. "But fine; whatever you say."

Vanitas wouldn't make eye contact, and Ventus sighed. In spite of everything that had happened between the two of them over the course of the past four months, their relationship was still tenuous at best. They'd lived under the same roof since the day they'd met, but to this day, Ventus still wasn't able to get used to Vanitas's…strange quirks. He constantly carried around a calendar and watch, was such a horrible cook that his food could probably wipe out zombies by the thousands, had to be tricked into washing himself (this one was especially irritating since Vanitas wasn't what one would call stupid), and always had to sleep with bright lights on in whatever room he was in.

In short, it was a chore just to get Vanitas to take care himself—and getting him to eat was one challenge in particular to the point that it was rather surprising that he wasn't emaciated yet.

"So, why don't you go ahead and tell me why you called me out?" Ventus suggested, changing the subject. "You know that I don't have work today."

"Just because it's your off day doesn't mean that you're not allowed to have any visitors," Vanitas countered with a roll of the eyes. "There's somebody waiting to see you."

Ventus raised an eyebrow. "And this person couldn't think to call in first so I could avoid looking like I just rolled out of bed…_why?_"

"You're just going to talk with somebody. What does it matter what you look like while doing it?"

"It's called etiquette, Vanitas. Maybe you've heard of it?"

"Ven?"

The two of them stopped their bickering at the sound of the new voice. Ventus turned around to see Naminé standing behind him at the main entrance to his apartment with a bewildered expression.

Ventus wondered inwardly how long she'd been standing there. "Oh…hi there, Naminé. What brings you here?"

"Uh…the thing is, I have to talk to you about something," she said, recovering from her shock. "In private," she added, giving a quick glance Vanitas' way.

Vanitas raised an eyebrow. "Well, I get the feeling that I'm not wanted in this conversation." He rose from his spot on the couch and headed into the hall. "I'll just be in the guest room, then."

Once Vanitas had disappeared into the shadows of the hallway and Ventus heard the telltale sound of a door clicking shut, he turned his attention back to his guest. Neither of them could manage to get a word out at first.

"I feel so bad for him," Naminé finally spoke up, her words quiet as she stared after him. "I had no idea Sora even had a brother before four months ago…he must've had to go through a lot."

"Yeah, well," Ventus sighed, rumpling his own hair to try and get the knots and tangles out, "try not to say that around him."

Naminé looked surprised. "Why not?"

"He doesn't really appreciate sympathy," he explained. "I get where he's coming from, though. He's had it rough."

"That's so sad…"

"Yeah. So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

If Naminé was disconcerted by Ventus' callous response, she didn't show it. "O-oh, right. About that—um, this might sound strange to you, but…I've been having these disturbing dreams lately, and it's gotten me worried."

Ventus raised an eyebrow. "Disturbing dreams, huh?" He normally would've dismissed that if it hadn't been for his own personal experience with the phenomenon. "Okay, then. What about it got you so worried that you had to come and speak to me privately about it?"

"Well, I—um, you see…y-you were in them," she answered reluctantly. "In—in all of them."

Ventus blinked in surprise. "Oh. That's…odd. Was I doing something in particular that worried you?"

Naminé bit her lip and refused to meet his eyes. It seemed to him that she did not want to answer his question right away. Ventus didn't exactly want to admit this to himself, but he was starting to feel uneasy by his old friend's strange behavior. "Hey, you alright? You look pale."

"…It wasn't what you were _doing_, exactly," she said at last, her words shaky. "It was…it was what happened to you."

"And…I'm assuming that it wasn't something good?" Pointless question, but he had to draw her out carefully. "It's fine; you can tell me. What happened?"

Naminé looked like she was sacrificing a lot with her next three words.

"You…you were killed," she said at last, her words hoarse.

Ventus did a double take at her response. "W-wait. I was _what?_"

"I don't ever see who does it," she continued, in that same hoarse tone. "I never see it happen. You're always just minding your own business one minute, but in the next, you were…" She broke off and covered her mouth in a bid to stifle her sobbing, unwilling to continue.

Ventus didn't force her this time. He knew exactly what she meant—and he didn't like it.

_You were dead._

"Okay, then…why did you feel the need to come and tell me this in person?" he asked, careful to keep his voice even. "So I died in a dream. You can see that I'm perfectly fine and one hundred percent not dead."

"I know that, Ven…but like I said, I've had this dream more than once," she confessed, wringing her hands. "I've gone to see psychiatrists and everything, but their advice hasn't helped at all. I've had this nightmare every night—ever since you were admitted to the hospital."

…That was an eerie coincidence. "Not even trained professionals could do anything about it?" he asked incredulously. "That's definitely not normal. If you really were going to psychiatrists, then it should've mitigated the frequency of these dreams somewhat, at the least."

Naminé shook her head. "That's why I decided to come to you and tell you about it. It wouldn't go away no matter what I did, and it's gotten to the point that I'm afraid of falling asleep now. I didn't have anything to lose, so…I thought maybe that telling you about these nightmares would make them stop." Her wide blue eyes glinted in fright. "And the craziest thing is…I really _felt_ like I should tell you, like—like as a warning, or something. So just…you know, be careful. Okay? I get the feeling that something bad is going to happen soon."

Ventus wasn't really sure what he should say to this. This was by far the strangest conversation he'd held with anyone for a while.

"Well…thanks for the warning, Naminé," he managed to say in reply. "I appreciate it, really."

Naminé turned away at the tone of his voice. "…You…don't believe me, do you?"

Ventus sighed and raised a hand to massage his right temple. "I'll be honest with you," he chuckled in fatigue. "I probably wouldn't believe you if I weren't me."

Naminé whirled around on the spot to face him in surprise. "Wait—so you actually—?"

"Well, unless you have some sort of ulterior motive in telling me that you've been slaughtering me within the confines of your unconscious mind, what reason would you have to lie to me about something like that?" He smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry too much. I'll be watching my back; I promise. You can relax."

Naminé couldn't seem to wipe the shock off of her face, but it eventually softened in relief. "You're a lifesaver, Ven," she said gratefully.

"Let's hope that's the case if your dreams happen to come true," Ventus teased lightly. "Think that you'll be able to sleep more soundly tonight?"

"I can't make any promises."

"C'mon. Be a little surer of yourself."

"Stop that; you're gonna make a liar out of me, Ven."

"That's my job, Naminé."

"Very funny."

"No, _not_ funny. It's called dry sarcasm. Y'know, being persuasive."

Naminé poked his (right, thankfully) shoulder playfully. "You're impossible."

"Thanks." Ventus lightly massaged his left shoulder to minimize the aching. "So, is the private part of this conversation over? Can Vanitas come back outside now?"

"Oh, um, yeah," she said quickly. "He can. You can go get him."

"Okay, good." Ventus turned and headed for the hallway. "The guy needs to learn how to send people off properly."

* * *

><p>Vanitas nearly broke the pen in his grip when he heard the knocks on his door.<p>

"Hey, Vanitas," he heard Ventus calling from the other side. "Naminé's about to leave now. Be a gentleman and give her a proper send-off."

Vanitas cursed under his breath. _You're not locked up anymore. Get with the program._

He pocketed his mini-calendar along with aforementioned pen and, doing his best not to betray any notion of annoyance, he rose from his seat and headed to the door. When he clicked it open, he saw Ventus waiting for him on the other side, his arms crossed and his expression miffed.

"Were you rehearsing a farewell speech or something?" Ventus asked, not even trying to hide his patronizing undertone. "What the heck were you doing in there?"

Vanitas was tempted to snap back with a clever retort of his own, but he caught himself at the last minute. "Doesn't matter," he said simply, pushing past the detective and striding down the hall without looking back. He could hear Ventus' subdued pursuit behind him, and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to push him back and make a run for it. He hated being followed so closely; it was an ambush just _waiting_ to happen—and it really didn't help to alleviate his annoyingly frequent anxiety attacks.

When he reached the living room, he saw the young blonde woman standing in front of the front door, ready to leave. She blinked expectantly when she caught sight of him.

"Oh…hello," she greeted him awkwardly.

Vanitas just grunted in response. Women were a foreign concept to him.

Ventus stepped forward and acted as his buffer. "So, I take it that today is the first time that you guys properly met in person, right?"

"Y-yeah," she said. She then looked to Vanitas and smiled tentatively. "I hope we can get along."

Vanitas didn't really know what to say to this, especially since he had no vested interest in becoming acquainted with her, but he couldn't really express his disdain for the current situation with Ventus watching. The man had eyes like a hawk—and he was extraordinarily difficult to win an argument against.

Very aware of the detective's penetrating stare, he just said shortly, "…Yeah. Sure."

The blonde looked surprisingly happier at his words. She turned to Ventus and said, "Well, I should go now. Watch your back, okay?"

Vanitas blinked. _Watch his back?_ he wondered. _What did these two talk about…?_

"Yeah, gotcha," Ventus said without so much as an explanation. "Get some good sleep tonight, okay? Be careful on your way home."

After Ventus sent her off, Vanitas turned to face the detective with a raised eyebrow. "The hell did you guys talk about?" he asked sharply. "She sending hitmen after you or what?"

Ventus rolled his eyes. "Not everything is a matter of life or death, Vanitas."

"Well, this sure sounded like it. She was pale as a sheet when she came in. It was like she just saw someone die in front of her for the first time."

"If she didn't want you to hear what she had to say, then it's not your business," Ventus said flatly. "Don't go jumping to conclusions like that."

"Don't you even think about pulling that kind of bullshit on me!" Vanitas snatched Ventus' collar and yanked him closer in his fury. "I _know_ that look. I've seen it more than any living being was ever meant to see. My brother wore that expression for _five years_, Goddamn it! That was my _face _for fifteen fucking years of my life! _Her business_, my ass—if she went out of her way to come here and tell you about that, then it's way more than just personal business, and you damn well know it!" He roughly released his hold on Ventus' collar as he growled, "Tell it to me straight, detective. What the hell did that woman tell you?"

If Ventus was in any way shaken by this altercation, he was doing a really good job at hiding it. His expression remained carefully blank as he finally answered wearily, "Alright, fine. I'll tell you—as long as you promise not to make a scene."

Vanitas clamped his mouth shut and refused to answer. Rash promises like that were definitely going to screw him over later. Ventus raised an eyebrow expectantly, but Vanitas refused to give.

Ventus just sighed and crossed his arms. "When I say 'not to make a scene', I mean keep the volume of your reaction suited for the indoors," he clarified. "Is that a better condition?"

Supremely annoyed at the detective for finding such an obvious loophole and using it against him, Vanitas nodded stiffly. Sometimes he got the feeling that Ventus didn't take him seriously, but then again, that might've been the paranoia talking. He could never guess what this man was thinking right off the bat.

"Okay," Ventus sighed, gesturing to the couches. "Let's sit down before we start talking. I doubt you'll believe what I tell you, but better safe than sorry."

* * *

><p>Once Ventus finished reiterating Naminé's tale, he could see that Vanitas had been ready to call bullshit on it from the very first sentence. It honestly didn't surprise him, since this wasn't the first time the two had broached the topic.<p>

Vanitas finally managed to say after a long moment of silence, "What the hell is it with you people and _prophetic dreams_? Seriously, now I'm gonna freak out each time one of you wakes up from a nightmare."

Ventus shook his head and sighed. "Hey, we're not in charge of what makes the universe tick. Sometimes, strange things happen that people just can't explain rationally."

"From my experience, that doesn't sound like something a detective would say."

"Bite me."

Vanitas stared at him like he'd just swallowed a bug. "What?"

"…Never mind." Ventus scratched his neck. "Anyway, what you're saying is…you basically want me to lie to myself?"

"At least to the public. That way, they'll take you seriously—people'll believe any lie you feed them with the right context."

Ventus felt his eyes widen at his companion's answer. "How do you know something like that?"

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't believe the amount of stupid things you hear when people don't think you're capable of listening," Vanitas said simply. "C.L.O.U.D.'s boss man is pretty damn good at that. You've seen it first-hand—look at what he did to Sora."

Ventus immediately sobered up at the mention of his late friend. Of course…he hadn't thought of that very much, but Sora had to have been fed at least a _few_ lies if he'd been slaving under them for what amounted to an entire decade.

"Wait, so you've seen the leader of that organization?" he opted to ask instead.

"'Course not," Vanitas scoffed, reclining against the back of the two-seater and staring up at the beige ceiling. "I wasn't exactly allowed parole. Like I said, you hear interesting things when people don't think you're listening."

"…Right." Ventus fought the urge to smack himself as he went on, "So it's a man?"

"According to what I heard, anyway. His lackeys don't have any shortage of praises for him."

Ventus blinked at the sudden bitterness that had injected itself into the fugitive's words. It made too much sense, of course, but Ventus couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy every time that aspect of his roommate's life came up anyway.

"I—I see."

"Anyway." Ventus flinched back when Vanitas turned on his seat and jabbed him in the ribs with the blunt end of the pen he'd been holding. "If what that woman told you is true, then you should stay indoors today. The best place an assassin can take a chunk out of you is out in the open. Don't give them that chance."

Ventus pushed Vanitas' hand away and lightly massaged the spot he'd jabbed him, pleasantly miffed. "So…you believe me anyway?"

"I didn't say that."

"Whatever makes you happy."

"Look; this isn't funny, detective." Vanitas grabbed Ventus' left arm without warning, making him wince as a sharp pain shot up his arm at the latter's contact. "You're in no shape to defend yourself in the event of an attack, and it could happen at literally _any_ time. If you value your hide, you're staying indoors. You hear me?"

Ventus instinctively yanked his arm out of Vanitas' grip while glaring daggers at him. "That was uncalled for, Vanitas."

"And so was your attitude," Vanitas countered flatly, swiftly rising from his seat. "Listen, C.L.O.U.D. doesn't fuck around, and it's about time that you come to terms with it—and I suggest that you start taking things a bit more seriously if you don't want to get your brains blown out. Try to at least consider what you're going up against here."

Ventus himself shot to his feet, but he couldn't get a word out before Vanitas turned his back on him and strode into the hallway without looking back.

"If you don't take my advice," Vanitas said, his words foreboding, "I swear to God; I'll snap your neck myself. Don't make me start thinking that I made a mistake coming to you for help."

* * *

><p><em>Yeah…it's short. Get used to it, because I won't be able to muster up anything longer for this story. ^^;<em>

_So, how was it? I've been away from this series for far too long, so I might be a tad rusty in terms of character portrayal and such. If you have any advice, I'd be happy to hear it._

_Well, that's that. See you on the other side, whenever that may be, and thanks for reading!_


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